swirls of clouds rearranging
wind, a constant peace
oboe and strings play
in the next room fill with natural
goodness, permeating
oatmeal left on stove
since breakfast time thickens to
a soft cinnamon cookie
trees fall, music plays
whether of not anyone hears
trust, and all love comes
we were placed on the planet
to act from kindness and allowing
grass grows fine on it's own
people who push and coerce
have not begun to look within
where their treasures shine
then, and only then
can they view another soul
without trying to change them
one's purpose need not be lofty
to merge with living spirit in flight
simply live simply by day, and by night
Kate Lamberg
Copyright September 2o 2010
